One in a Nation
by aliengirlguy
Summary: When the Tenctonease crash-landed on Earth, they were not the only ones who could claim the title of Newcomer, as another soul is washed up on this nondescript world. Warning: A few mentions of straight people, but don't worry they aren't a big part of the story.
1. Sand in all the Wrong Places

A/N: Originally posted one my AO3 account, thought I would chuck it here as well.

A/N 2: This is an idea that has been rattling around in my head for a time now, trying to write a crossover between two of my favorite mediums, Harry Potter, and Alien Nation (TV). For those who ask, their will likely be some pairings, though it isn't the focus of the feature and some will be canon while others will not, I have yet to decide who, though there will be. Warning: A few mentions of straight people, but don't worry they aren't a big part of the story.

 ** _"…It's at 33 miles and closing…"_**

 _"…Lord Harrison James Potter, it is grave tidings that have brought you here today before the Wizgengamot…"_

 ** _"…We have visual now…"_**

 _"…after much deliberation, we can't overlook the very real threat you pose…"_

 ** _"…We have exact coordinates…"_**

 _"…No one wizard should stand separate from his fellows…"_

 ** _"…It looks to me...3 miles wide…"_**

 _"…you are too dangerous to remain unchecked…"_

 ** _"…it's huge!..."_**

 _"…it is thus with a heavy heart that we find you guilty…"_

 ** _"…requesting immediate identification…"_**

 _"…and the sentence is…"_

 ** _"…this s not a hoax!"_**

 _"…death!"_

Harry James Potter opened his eyes to blinding bright sunlight, the beginnings of what he was sure to be impressive sunburn, and sand in places sand should never be.

He sat up, wincing as muscles ached and dried out skin cracked. He had no idea how long he had laid there, but it must have been awhile, judging by the fact that he'd had to knock out a few critters and crawlers from his person. He shivered in disgust.

Of course it wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't bloody starkers!

Likely blinding some poor passing lizard with his lily white full moon rising over the desert dunes, and yes indeed there were dunes, he looked around himself to find a rock strewn desert as far as the eye could see.

So…definitely not the train station limbo from his previous visit then.

Harry frowned around himself, scratching a bug bite on his hip as he came to the quick conclusion that wherever he was, he was reasonably certain it wasn't the afterlife…at least he didn't think so. After all, he had been dead before, he knew what it felt like to be a disembodied soul, and it certainly didn't feel itchy and hot.

Harry wiped the sweat from his eyes as he tried to recall the last thing he saw before ending up in this predicament.

Let's see…he had finally been caught by The Ministry of Magic after 10 long years of them hot on his ever young tail, then he had been barely given a farce of a trial, purely for the sake of formality, before being found guilty of course.

Harry's face twisted bitterly.

Then he had been dragged in his prison rags down into the depths of the Ministry and taken to into the Department of Mysteries, through the spinning doors, and into the room where he had lost the last of his family so long ago, and then finally, though 12 years late, he had followed his Godfather into the silky cold embrace of the Arch, and then… and then…

He woke up in this Merlin forsaken desert!

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples as he looked around vainly for something to cover him up, only spying the occasional cactus, which understandably he was not too keen on in the loin cloth department.

He was eyeing a rather nervous looking lizard nearby when company arrived, sufficiently distracting him from his immodesty and gloom.

Harry starred, mouth open as the giant floating behemoth that could only be described as saucer-like in shape, but so mammoth in size several hundred Hogwarts castles and grounds combined could fit comfortably inside.

The sky was red with the heat of the incoming arrival, metal was flying, and the whole world seemed to roar at him.

Harry's potential breakfast/bits cover had long skedaddled along with every other living thing in the area, including Harry, as it headed right for him.

"Why are big dangerous things always out to kill me?!" Harry yelled.

Then the thing crashed, and the ground beneath him bucked upwards, sending him and much of the landscape into the air as well as causing a mini-sandstorm to round out his experience.

When the dust had settled, Harry clawed his way back to the surface from under a pile of sand, rocks, dead scorpions, and cacti.

Harry staggered to his feet, limping and bleeding heavily as he held his side, rather sure that he had busted a rib or two as he stared upwards at the giant- he couldn't believe he was thinking this, though he had seen enough science-fiction to take a strong guess- spaceship, which sat 50 feet in front of him.

Then out of the steam, fire and dust, came a man.

Only he wasn't like any sort of man he had seen before. Broad shouldered, sturdy, wearing grungy tan body suit, but his head was hairless and spotted, and had a lack of external ears in the same manner that old Voldie had lacked a nose.

The man looked confused and traumatized, much as Harry did.

Then the mam (alien?) spotted him and lunged at him.

Only Harry's injured body kept him from dodging out of the way in time, and thus he bore the brunt of the man's frantic grip and odd lyrical-click mumbo jumbo.

By this point Harry was vastly aggravated and not in the best mental place to be accosted by an alien, and the manhandler was bigger than him and very much threatening, his magic finally made an appearance.

The force surprised even him, sending the alien flying through the air for some distance away, and crashing back through the deep fissure that had ruptured the ship upon crashing.

He wasn't the last though, more and more confused and frightened people began pouring through the opening, some of them alert, some of them carrying children, some of them pregnant, and some of them looking stoned out of their gills. All this stumbling and shuffling right towards him.

Then another gatecrasher in the way of helicopters and the rising cloud of what Harry heavily suspected was the arriving cavalry of wherever he was, approached from the sky and the horizon.

That spelled more problems than the aliens, in Harry's opinion. He knew from a life time of painful firsthand experience that the humans would be the ones to worry about more, especially the military/government agent variety in this instance, and muggle ones as well.

Ignoring what he presumed were yelled demands and grasping alien hands, Harry used his flagging magic to coat himself in a small bubble of energy that had him sliding like an eel through the steadily increasing crush of the crowd.

With only two venues open to him: the investigating muggles or the unknown chasm of an alien ship, Harry chose the ship.

Harry slink-limped from shadow to shadow, only the trail of blood from his numerous injuries and gashes and his torn up feet, though with the low lights and aliens eager to escape the ship (which smelled an awful lot like a combination between hot metal and Vaseline), no one looked for his trail.

The deeper he went inside, the quieter it got.

It was oddly eerie, and there were bodies strewn all over the place, some injured and moaning, some dead, and some in an odd daze.

Harry bit his lip when he eyed an alien that looked close to him in size, his skull caved in by a fallen pipe of metal in one small bare room and Harry knew this was an opportunity to at least solve one of his pressing needs.

There might have been a time in which Harry would have hesitated, even outright refused what he was about to do, but his 10 years on the run had eliminated any sense of moral outrage or squeamishness, so silently he divested the poor sod of his clothing, and put them on.

He felt much better now that he was clothed, even if it did smell a bit and was a little bloody along the collar.

Harry staggered further inward, looking for a place to hole up and wait out the feds, when he heard it.

A woman was crying out from behind a blocked door, smoke pouring through the gaps in the debris.

Harry's eyes meant golden brown through the cracks, and the women called out to him, gesturing and pleading.

Harry bit his lip, he didn't have long until the entire place was swarming with muggles, if he stayed to help, he risked being caught.

Harry tried using his magic on the door, but it had long retreated to deal with his injuries.

Super. Harry sighed and after meeting the pleading gaze one more time, swore heavily as he began to push and pull the debris out of the way.

He had managed to create a sizable hole, and the woman scrambled out through it, trailed by a group of crying coughing men, many of which looked rather overweight, some of them carrying tiny bundles protectively to their chests.

Harry sighed as he stumbled off while they were occupied in saving themselves.

A moan caught Harry's flagging consciousness, and he turned his head groggily, spotting a slight form pinned underneath a heavy beam.

Harry slid down the wall, landing beside him, unable to keep himself upright any longer.

He somehow ended up suddenly lying down, and the eyes he met were a soft mix of amber and blue, staring into his own in terror and pain.

Harry let out a pained breath when he saw the blood, knowing that the poor sod didn't have long for the world.

He felt a flare of pity and compassion, likely induced by his own pain and injuries and massive exhaustion, and it was perhaps what he would blame it on if he was in the proper frame of mind for it.

He rolled himself as close as he could until he was practically nose to nose with the alien and smiled, though whether this translated into something reassuring or not, he could not tell, and reached out a hand, mildly surprised when the other mirrored his movements, and the two cupped each other's face.

Harry then did something very, very stupid.

He reached down that well that was his magic, and ripped it away forcefully from healing him and turned the protesting, writhing power towards healing something else.

The metal beam exploded in a flash of bubbles, the blood stopped flowing and receded back into the source, damaged organs, crushed bones, gashes, everything receded until there was nothing but scars and bruises.

Harry's breathe gargled and he thought to himself, before the darkness took him 'finally! I better properly die this time!'


	2. IP Freely

Harry of course didn't die, he was the bloody boy who bloody lived, no matter the ridiculous odds.

It made him both laugh and cry in equal measures.

Harry gazed around himself blearily, annoyed by the screaming headache, the love child of the combined forces of florescent lights and white walls.

Harry had awoken in a small room, clothed this time thankfully, though not in the cloths he had stolen from that dead alien, this time he was in the familiar garb of a hospital medical gown, buttocks sunroof and all.

His dubious attire, the lack of color, the metal rungs on either side of his bed, and the burly fellows dressed in white that flanked a sour individual in lots of shiny metal and serious uniform, let him know exactly where he was: A muggle hospital, and in serious shit.

Ooo ooo ooo

For hours they questioned him, giving Harry the impression that they likely thought he was in cahoots with the aliens for some reason. Bad cop didn't work, as Harry's half bemused, half annoyed expression didn't change along with his vague monosyllabic answers. Then they tried the gentler approach, asking if he had been kidnapped, studied, probed…why some blokes would would want to probe him again he had no idea, and when that venue exhausted itself without baring fruit, they finally just demanded outright why he had been there.

Harry shrugged and told part of the truth, he'd been wandering in the desert starkers minding his own business when the ship dropped out of the sky.

His answer frustrated them more then the others.

He'd told the truth…well, relatively speaking anyway, he told the truth from the time that he had awoken in the desert. Anytime before that though he took perhaps the most cliché route he could take, which is where the frustration was stemming from for his interrogators, but at the time it was the only thing he could think of.

"I don't remember anything."

Understandably his interrogators were somewhat disbelieving, and they got all suspicious and brought in men and women to examine him.

It was during their questioning that Harry realized that wherever he was, no matter how similar it may be to the world he left behind, this was not his Earth. His honest lack of knowledge about this new place, such as who the president of the United States was. He thought he remembered something in a newspaper once about it being some chap named Obama, which was true in his own world, at least he thought it was, but apparently not here, or at least not yet perhaps. His confusion over dates, years, and so forth combined with the state of his injuries and trauma when he was recovered, helped to back up the plausibility of Harry's story.

There was nothing more they could get from him, and everything about his experiences with the aliens was picked clean (keeping his little magical interactions to himself), so eventually he was left be.

Ooo ooo ooo

A week later one of his doctors saw fit to inform him that he had been in the hospital for over a month, and since he had been in close proximity to the aliens, as well as being on their ship, the potential for possible contagion was strong (which is why those people had been covered in a protective layer of plastic over their official suits), so he was under quarantine as the aliens were, though being kept separate.

Harry didn't argue with it much. They gave him the occasional book, occupied him with physical therapy, and several sessions with needles and constant examinations broke up the boring monotony.

He attended a weekly appointment with an appointed therapist, but she was frustrated by Harry's absolute refusal to co-operate, often more interested in teaching himself the latest jingle from the telly that someone had thoughtfully put in his room.

He was finding he rather liked telly, having not had a chance to enjoy it between the Dursley's and the lack of technology in the Wizarding World. By the time his years on the run began he was to busy crouching in the latest whole to care about luxury's like though it was a vital source of information as it gave him a bit of a window into this new world.

The first thing he had noticed was the year. According to the television it was 1988, which meant that he had not only gone into another dimension, but he had traveled back in time, which meant he would have to wait for toaster strudel and mp3 players, among a lot of things, if they even get developed at all in this dimension.

He learned that he was also in California, all the way across the pond in America of all places!

Rather amusing since according to the movies he'd seen over the years when he holed up in theaters from time to time, America was often alien central, and had given him a rather good cackle, disturbing the nurse giving him a sponge bath when he thought of the coincidence.

The next thing he learned was that the world was equal parts excited and understandably leery of their new guests, particularly compounded by the news that they could not leave was not going over well in some corners.

Despite misgivings, Harry did see news reports on Civil rights activists on behalf of the aliens having sprung up recently, some of them backed by some major political clout.

Harry knew that it wouldn't be long before the government gave into the pressure and would no longer have a leg to stand on when it was proven that the Newcomers, as they were being dubbed, were not a danger to the public.

This proved accurate as on the eve of 1989, 250,000 Newcomers, and one unknown human, were released from quarantine, given citizenship status, new names, and a chunk of the less reputable, shoddily cleaned up section of LA to form their own community.

Since Harry was sticking to his amnesia story like glue, including a handy lack of identity, he was also given a new name, Ian Paul Freeley, a small bit of money, and an apartment. he left the hospital the same day the Newcomers were released.

Harry kept the papers and money, but turned down the apartment and mandatory, though freely offered, shrink appointments, and promptly made himself scarce.


	3. Schooling

A/N:

Some lines and scenes from the first episode of Alien Nation series were utilized in this chap. Warning: Some uses of specist/racists comments taken from the show.

 _"That was the scene in California's Mohave Dessert, 5 years today, the historic first view of the Newcomer ship, upon its dramatic arrival. Their ship was a slave ship carrying over 250,000 beings bred to adapt an labor in almost any environment but they've washed ashore on Earth, with no way to get back where they came from…"_

"Why am I doing this?"

Ian grumbled to himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror gloomily, "I look freakin' ridiculous!"

"Oh, I don't know, I think the uniform is fetching with your coloring…"

Ian glared at his roommate to shut him up, but the tall man just rolled his eyes chuckling in amusement.

"I still look like a funeral director," Ian grouched, his Newcomer friend just shook his head in exasperation as he topped off his own identical uniform with his police issue hat, the brim shiny and new.

"Your just complaining because you haven't had your breakfast yet," the other pointed out, adjusting the angle of the hat over his spots.

Ian grumbled under his breath, "Don't remind me."

The grouchy human grabbed his own hat and slapped it on without fanfare over his messy black hair, which continued to somehow defy police regulation cuts.

"I wouldn't be so sleep deprived if you hadn't kept me up with all that excitement of yours! You were so jittery that your spots were practically dancing yanky-doodle."

Henry rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Sorry about that, its just...great Selene! I can't believe it! graduation! Finally!" Henry clapped his hands together, eyes shining as he stared heavenward, "Just think! this time next week we'll be walking the streets! defending lawful citizens from the seedy underbelly of the criminal world!"

Ian's eyebrow twitched, "you have been binging _Hawaii Five-O_ again haven't you?"

Henry hummed, "I wonder if when I eventually make detective I can wear those colorful floral uniform tops to?"

Eventually it was 15 minutes later after a brisk dash to not be late to their own graduation. Ian ducking low when he spotted Henry's wife, Vera, taking pictures energetically. if there was one thing he could say about his friend and family, was that they were all well matched in excitability.

There was speeches being made by the Dean, a few instructors, the Chief of Police, and the valedictorian for their graduation year, a perky women with dark skin and short hair, while Ian and Henry stood on a stage with a bunch of other similarly dressed graduates, a mixture of Tenctonese and human, as the class of '93 lined up at attention to receive their diplomas.

Despite Ian's sour disposition from lack of sleep and uncomfortable dress uniforms, he still slapped his roommate of 2 years on the back when "James, Henry" was called. Henry's wife and children clapped along with the other attendees.

Ian smirked when they got to the "F"'s (why they went in backwards alphabetical order he had no idea) the crowd and some of the officers and teachers laughed when the Dean called out rather dryly, "Freeley, I.P…"

"I'm sure you do!" one wise ass called out from the audience, causing the laughter to flare up again, much to the Dean's long suffering look.

Ian's mood improved at the dean's annoyed look, and didn't even bother to hide his smirk as he accepted his diploma, shook the man's hand, shook his teachers hands and rejoined his fellow cadets.

After the ceremony, Ian was invited by Henry and his wife back to their place for dinner.  
Harry accepted, and the two new grads slapped each other on the back, and generally rough housed until they got back to the cramped apartment building in Little Tencton, or Slag Town as the humans rudely put it, and the two sat down with a beer and a sour milk respectively as they talked about this and that classmate and what they planned on doing with their futures.

It was hard to believe that he had been here nearly 5 years! It was even more amazing to realize that in the time that he had been scratching out an existence in this new world that he, the ultimate, longest running fugitive in human history (in another dimension and lifetime anyway) would decided to be a cop.

Ian had pinpointed the point sometime when he had started staying in Little Tencton which had sprung up not to long after Ian and the Tenctonese had been released from their respective quarantines.

Being a human alien in a non-human alien part of the city had given him a unique perspective. He had witnessed many counts of brutal specisisim, on both sides, over the years. He had seen young male and female Tencton selling their bodies for money and sometimes drugs. He saw gangs, he saw robberies, he saw all manner of violence with no care on either end for those caught in-between.

He had also seen just as many incidences of community and closeness as well, families and friends forming an interconnected frame of mutual survival, and had come to appreciate the good of his new home right along side the bad. And a rising discontent with remaining on the sidelines when the bad happened began to grow.

Unfortunately, his magic being dangerously unstable in this universe, as he and the giant 50 ft crater in the dessert outside of down that he had practiced in can attest to, he didn't dare try to use it. He knew how to fight dirty, and used that from time to time, but he was no match as one shrimpy little guy against groups of humans looking to do a little slag bashing, especially all to willing to include a "traitor" slag lover as he had been called, to the beat down. Nor was he strong enough to go up against a fully grown tencton car jacking a man's truck who had the strength of all the previous mentioned and was not about to have a shrimpy little tert detour his activity.

One to many trips to the free-clinics had earned him many a lecture from a Tencton doctor whom Ian became a regular of, and eventually decided that it might not be a bad idea to join the police force. He might as well have health coverage and a paycheck while helping people out.

Ian felt himself shaken out of his thoughts when Henry's kids, a daughter and two sons, dragged him into the circle of their family to watch the selection of cop films that Vera had rented for the evening in celebration. Ian spent the rest of the evening talking Henry out of saying "Freeze dirt bags!" and purchasing a prostitute for the dean's next speech.

ooo ooo ooo

Ian and Henry's first impression on their first day at their new job as rookie cops, was perhaps not as impressive or exciting as they had hoped for.

Out of all the muggle jobs that had ever crossed Ian's mind as being potentially interesting, being a police officer had seemed the most exciting. But it wasn't all taking down dangerous bad guys. They both were relegated to answering phones, manning the exhaustive flow of distressed and disgruntled citizens swarming the precinct, and sending the more interesting cases to more experienced officers.

Henry wasn't discouraged however. His always positive friend had pointed out that they would start from the ground up like any other job. Henry thrived on proving himself, especially in a prescient that also had its fair share of specists.

It was work though, and Henry's optimism was always one of the things that impressed Ian about his friend, especially since he had lost his own optimism a very long time ago.

Ooo ooo ooo

"Why officer its just simpley horrible!" The old woman complained as she fidgeted with her blue sequined purse, "Every time I go to bingo those blasted aliens take my glasses as soon as I'm not looking!"

"Mm-hmm" Ian hummed nonchalantly, pen vaguely filling out yet another form.

"And when did you see the Newcomer take your glasses?" Ian asked, only to yelp in surprise when she suddenly unexpectedly whacked him on the head with said purse.

"Don't talk smack about Newcomers! Why some of my best neighbors are Newcomers! Lovely people! No, I'm talkin' about those crafty little green buggers, their the trouble causers! And to think, an officer of the law, jumping to hateful assumptions like that! For shame!"

Ian rubbed his head, as he was doing so he saw something gleam from the mounds of curly blue hair.

Ian reached out and plucked a pair of rhinestone spectacles from the aggravated woman's weave.

"Are these the glasses that were stolen ma'am?" Ian asked dryly.

"Oh my! Why those wily little space hooligans! They must have put them there when I wasn't looking!" The woman huffed, snatching them from his hand.

After the woman left and Ian painfully filed the report, he sat back down at the tiny in-take desk and drawled, "Well what are you waiting for? I know you want to."

Henry, in the next desk over, along with an old tencton man reporting a vandalized window, both broke out into laughter while Ian focused on his third cup of coffee.

Ooo ooo ooo

Ian's first impression of Detective Sikes was...well, that he didn't like him.

The man was cocky, abrasive, and downright insulting.

Ian knew the guy had recently lost his partner when a Newcomer robbery went wrong, but he didn't like the casual way the man threw around hateful words like "slag" and "sponge-head." He could understand grief, he had likely lost more people then he could count in his previous life, but he hadn't let it affect him. Hell he was civil even to Malfoy after the war before things went pear-shaped. He still didn't get along or like the git, but the both of them were adults and at least kept their snipping private.

George Fransisco, the recently assigned partner of Detective Sikes, and a personal hero to Henry, who was the first Tencton to join the force as well as get such an influential and high position as detective grade one, was a marvel of tolerance in Ian's opinion.

ooo ooo ooo

Matt was tired.

A long hard day of interviewing the usual garden variety of crooks, George being all "its proctologist Matt..." and "here's a bran muffin and prune juice Matt, its rich in fibre," seriously, what sort of normal person gets another guy poop food?

Out of the corner of his eye he watched as everyone's least favorite colorful shirted scumbag reporter hit up Mendez for a story, a sponge head knocking over Dobb's favorite coffee mug and getting yelled at...though Matt did feel a little bad, Albert was not exactly rowing with both oars after all and was a rather nervey little guy. Pretty much the status quo of his work day environment.

The other sponge head, a new rookie who came in with yet another batch of squeaky greens from the vaunted halls of education was exchanging banter with another rookie, a dark haired kid with big green eyes who looked like he should be patrolling high school hallways instead of the city streets.

He took a deep breath of his gorgeous caffeinated slurry that was more edible then drinkable, and took a big gulp, hoping the caffeine would clear his head.

He coughed, grabbed the nearest waste basket, the one that Albert was carrying, and yarked.

When he was done he gasped "Alright! What wise guy put strawberry syrup in my coffee?!"

It was such a shame that detective Sikes had a strong, nauseous reaction to Strawberry syrup. A secret oddity that Ian just happened to notice in the man's personal file. What sort of unscrupulous cad would take advantage of such a weakness easily obtained from Sikes' personal file? Ian's evil little smile was well disguised from behind a file he was holding, as Sikes glared daggers around the office.

Henry rolled his eyes, "You really shouldn't do that you know, he is a superior officer after all." Henry scolded, his sensitive nose wrinkling at the smell of sick human in the room.

Ian tossed him his smell nullify balm, the man gratefully applying it under his sensitive nose.

"I tend to think of it as negative reinforcement," Ian nodded to his friend, "Every time he's a potty mouth bigot to others, well...lets just say it wont...kill him...to learn a little manners."

ooo ooo ooo

Ian's opinion of Matt did somewhat soften over time.

Few days later after he had started his silent campaign of pranking the detective, one prank for every insulting term of a specist nature that fell from his lips. Ian was sent to help with crowd control at a protest outside an elementary school.

He had watched from the sidelines, tense and eyeing the rowdy crowd, a sharp eye watching for any wrong moves towards something more violent, when Sikes and Fransisco arrived. The tenctonese looked anxious, not that he couldn't blame him. If that was his daughter at the heart of this protest, he would be anxious to. In fact, he silently applauded the man's restraint for not reaching for his weapon.

The protest was becoming more heated as the two middle aged women, Purists if he remembered the moniker right (this had made Ian roll his eyes, some things never change) riled the protestors into a near lather.

"I say we run them right back into slag town!" the more aggressive of the two, a brunette, snarled into her blow horn.

BANG!

There was screams and people instinctively ducked.

Ian had his own side arm in his hand, only to blink in surprise when he saw Sikes strolling casually into the heart of the protest, his gun waving upward.

"Why stop at running them back to Slag Town? Why don't we just kill them?" Matt yelled into the suddenly struck dumb crowd.

BANG! BANG!

"Keep them in their place!...keep America Pure!"

Ian felt his lip curl when some of the people cheered for that.

"Yeah...we don't even need to paint little stars on them to recognize them do we?" The cheering faltered, "just look at them! They stand out better then the Japs we through back in the concentration camps in 1942! This'll be a piece of cake!"

Everyone was dead silent now, starring at Sikes.

"And if enough of us get together, it will almost seem legal wont it?!' he hollard the last part loudly.

No one moved a muscle or barely blinked.

"Put a few pointy white hats on our heads and hang us a few slags!" Sikes continued, strolling towards George who had an arm wrapped around his daughter, along with his wife.

Almost cheerfully he exclaimed, reaching for the girl, "Why don't we start with this little one here?"

There were muffled gasps of horror from the crowd.

Sikes took the girl's hand and walked to the center of the crowd, "just because she's an American citizen, that doesn't make her human does it? So what if she's a little brighter then our kids? We can beat that out of her!" Sikes glared at the surrounding stares, "Discourage her and she'll eventually give up, So what if she might have come up with a cure for cancer someday? She's not civilized like us, so why don't we put a gun to her head right now?"

He forcefully tried to hand his gun to several of the onlookers, who recoiled. One man told Ian to do something, but Ian had lowered his gun. Sikes was making a point. A point that, while blatantly against a lot of the regulations that had been drilled into his head, was necessary nonetheless.

Sikes turned to the ring leader of the crowd and exclaimed, "How about you Miss Purist? I know you want to pull the trigger, come on down!"

Sikes then coked his gun. "What? Do I have to do it then, huh?"

The blond friend of the ring leader was finally driven to speak exclaiming almost desperately, "No! We don't want her dead! We just want her back where she belongs!"

The safety on the gun clicked and Matt lowered his weapon, holstering it. He took the young girls hand and said in deadly seriousness, "she belongs here."

leaving everyone in dumbfounded amazement, Sikes made sure that the girl was handed safely over to her teachers, said something quietly to her, making the girl tentatively smile at him, and then gave everyone 3 minutes to clear out before arresting them.

After that, it was just a matter of Ian and the rest of the officers disbursing the crowd, with a few sticking around the perimeter of the school to make sure there wasn't any repeat occurrences.

When Ian returned to the precinct, he told Henry about what happened, his friend raising his hairless brow and stating "Well, I guess he has more brains then excrement in his scull after all."

Ian nodded, "yeah."

"Though I take it your not going to let up on your campaign?" Henry said a bit more dryly.

Ian smirked, "Yep."


	4. Politics and Thanks

A/N: Brief mentions of scenes and things from the first episode of Alien Nation.

Ian sat up with a start when there was a harsh knock on his window.

He stared ahead of him blearily to find Henry looking inside with an exasperated look on his face.

Ian yawned, pushing aside the old worn sleeping bag and crawled out of the back seat of his old Ford Angelia.

"Why must you constantly insist on sleeping in that barely functioning vehicle?" Henry sighed as Ian grabbed the coffee that Henry had brought him, black with four sugars, yum!

He tossed it back with an impressive speed of consumption and endurance for the hot temperature that Henry had not thought possible in humans until he had met Ian at the academy.

"What? Its cheaper then paying rent," Ian grumbled, tossing the cup over his shoulder, landing inside the nearby waste basket. Ian popped the trunk of the powder blue vehicle and rummaged around the pile of junk that Ian had collected in the last five years, pulling out his slightly wrinkled uniform and a fresh pair of underwear.

Without care Ian stripped from his PJ's and wandered over to the rusted spigot that was his main source of water for bathing.

"But you know that Vera and I would not mind having you stay," Henry sighed, handing his naked friend his toothbrush and toothpaste.

"You know I can't do that Henry, things are tight enough as for you guys as it is without my arse taking up valuable space. Besides, I just need another few weeks until my paycheck comes in then I'll have enough for an apartment."

Ian began brushing his teeth while Henry hunted around for Ian's hat, finding it buried under a collection of books on mythology.

Henry pulled it out only to spot a familier title in Tenctonese on the cover.

"I hadn't realized that you could read Tencton?!" Henry exclaimed, honestly surprised. His friend had never shared with him before that he was interested in even learning Tencton before. He did know that Ian had lived on the streets in Little Tencton for a few years before joining the force though, so maybe he had picked it up there? Ian was never one to talk about his past much, still, it hurt that his best human friend of over two years hadn't told him.

Ian rinsed and spat, looking up at his friend and sighed at the injured kicked puppy look.

Ian cleaned his face and got dressed, explaining awkwardly.

"Um, well, I guess you could say I picked it up awhile back. I...you know I don't like talking about my past Henry, and you know more then most about it already, and to be honest it never really crossed my mind to mention it."

Henry sighed, he supposed that he shouldn't be surprised by that answer. Ian always played his secrets close to the vest, as well as being a bit absent minded on the mundane things from time to time. For a human as young as Ian was, he was oddly world weary at times.

Henry handed him his hat after Ian had changed and the two climbed into the Ford Angela, which seemed agreeable to running today.

As they drove, Henry enjoyed some of his morning squirrel, while Ian tossed back another coffee and bit savagely into his own, more cooked, Squirrel.

Henry wondered if there were any other humans out there that caught there own breakfast. He rather thought not. He also wasn't a bad at crafts either. Henry's favorite winter hat was made from furs that Ian had given him for last year's Day of Decent celebration.

Ooo ooo ooo

Even after a third cup of coffee at the precinct, Ian was still a little groggy.

He slauged his way through his paper work, and only got a chuckle or two when Sikes sat on that cream pie he had left on his chair earlier.

"Really Matt, you need to clean your desk more often," George tsked, shaking his head.

The one spot of good that came out of that day was that Cpt. Grazer had called Ian and Henry into his office and informed them that they would be starting beat duty finally with each of them paired with a more veteran officer.

Henry was disappointmented, but understood orders. Ian also understood orders and such, but he had no problem speaking up if he didn't agree with them.

"Excuse me sir," Ian said politely, deciding to dust off a little of his ol' Slytherin charm, "I think its a great idea that you care so much about your officers that you would want to make sure that we learn from the best."

"Oh well...of course!" Cpt. Grazer puffed out his chest, "It's good see that some of you new rookies recognize that."

Ian's first opinion when first meeting Cpt. Grazer was of a healthier, slightly smarter Minister Fudge with a dose of Percy Weasley thrown in. He was certainly not the first politician that Ian had ever encountered, and after observing Malfoy Sr. manipulate said politicians in his school years, he had come to see a certain advantage in the skill when he had grown out of his ridiculous Gryffindor righteousness.

"Of course!" Ian exclaimed, eyes wide, "How could I not? It's obvious who runs this place! Why, without you here to keep the image of the department in mind...why I don't know where we would be!"

"I'm glad someone appreciates my hard work," Cpt. Grazer sighed, eyes briefly straying to where Sikes and Fransisco were hurrying out on their way to investigate that stolen corpse no doubt.

Grazer's eyes strayed back to the rookie, blushing when his eyes were caught by those earnest vibrant green orbs.

Ian's eyes also briefly strayed to the leaving dream team and smirked internally, outwardly he mused, "Wouldn't it be amazing if...oh, but I'm sure you wouldn't even consider..."

Grazer, interest caught, asked "What would be amazing?"

"Well..." the rookie said hestiantly, "I was thinking...your idea to put Sikes and Fransisco together as partners was really quite brilliant!"

"It was?...I mean, yes, it was!" Grazer nodded.

"The reputation of this precinct as a place of diversity and equality, protecting the city under the united clasped hands of Newcomer and Aliens alike is brilliant in these times of social unrest between Humans and Newcomers!"

Grazer made a mental note to write that down for later.

Then the excited looked dimmed and the rookie sighed, "its such a shame that there's only one Newcomer and Human pair of partners, especially of the same rank, imagine the bragging rights...er, I mean message of peace that it would send to the city if you had more then just one inter-species team, imagine how impressed everyone would be with us! why, i bet the mayor would give a commendation to some one who has the foresight to to promote peaceful co-existence between our two peoples..."

Grazer perked up. A commendation from the mayor? that would certainly be a feather in the cap of anyone's resume, his resume to be exact. In fact, having a slew of Newcomer/Human partners of equal ranks would actually not be a bad idea, but who else did he have to work with? Amos Andy was partnered with their human head Coroner, but corpse jockey's weren't exactly sexy and he'd been hearing a few rumours that said head coroner might be a purist, and Albert was a Janitor and...Albert.

His eyes strayed to Officer James. This Newcomer a rookie as well, and even if he did partner him with a more experienced officer, as was his original plan, they wouldn't be on the same equal footing as Fransisco and Sikes were. But who...?

"...Its such a shame to see such prime Newcomer/Human relations being so close to reality!" The rookie continued helpfully as he tuned back in, "After all, a passion of mine is equality among all Humans and Newcomers. I was just telling my best friend Henry here, that its a shame he and I couldn't do our part towards achieving your dream sir..."

Grazer had an idea, if this surprisingly intelligent rookie was so keen...and he did need to have something in his back pocket in case Human/Newcomer Resources breathed down his neck again...and if he remembered both their files correctly, these two had trained and graduated together...Grazer smirked satisfied.

"Officer James, Officer Freely, I've changed my mind on those partner assignments. I want the both of you to become partners. You'll both still have to do some part-time work with more experienced ventrans in the field of course, but I believe otherwise you two are officially a team."

Grazer mentally rubbed his hands together. It was actually perfect! Being rookies they were both prime moldable material. He could create the perfect figureheads of equality and diversity for his department, both of them touting the brilliance of their chief, and of course, making him all the more desirable for the commissioner's seat in a few years.

Oh, he had Sikes and Fransisco, but Sikes was...not the most...PC material for the department. No, best to start from the ground up with fresh new faces who were not yet jaded by the system.

"Oh! That's a great idea!" Officer Freely enthused, eyes sparkling happily, and Grazer felt his blush deepen, before coughing and shooing the two away with there part-time partner assignments. He leaned back in his chair with visions of sugar coated PR Plums dancing in his head.

Outside the captain's office, once they were out of ear shot, Henry just stared at his new human partner, both impressed and confused at the same time.

"What just...happened in there?" he asked.

Ian smirked, patting his new Tenctonese partner on the arm, "Politics my dear spotted friend, politics."

Ooo ooo ooo

Ian frowned down at the newspaper, and looked up at what felt like the hundredth street sign.

He sighed in relief when he spotted what he was looking for, finally!

The sun had already set, and he was sure that landlord Ian had planned to meet had given up on him by now. Not exactly the best impression a possible new tenet could make.

Ian leaned back against a brick wall under a blue neon sign advertising some alcoholic beverage. His eyes strayed into the street, taking in the busy bars, the brightly lit convenience stores, the old buildings that had seen better days, but had yet to slip into destitute, the first hookers settling in for the evening.

It actually wasn't much different from some of the places Ian, then Harry, had dwelled during his on the run days back in his old world, it was easy to lose oneself in crowded urbaniziation. He supposed it wasn't surprising that he would find himself in such venues again in this new world.

Henry was going to owe him that lunch he had bet when Ian insisted that he was just going to get lost apartment hunting with Henry disagreeing, saying that between maps and all the helpful citizens to choose from to guide him it was a near impossibility to get lost looking for a place and had told him to quit stalling.

Well, Ian, who was pants at reading any map but the magical variety, and was not inclined to ask strangers for directions, had of course gotten lost. Thus, while a fruitless exercise had earned him a visit to Mc D's.

Harry was mentally planning his future meal when trouble brewing caught his eye.

A group of drunk middle aged men had stumbled out of the bar across the street from him, laughing about something or other as most soused individuals do, when they spotted a well dressed Tenctonese woman getting out of a red car nearby.

They elbowed each other then swaggered up to her, and Ian could tell from their leers and the aggressive posturing that they were up to no good.

He had seen enough of this in Little Tencton to know what was going to happen.

Ian moved.

Ooo ooo ooo

Cathy Frinkel had a long busy day at the lab and was looking forward to a quiet evening at home with a good book.

As always, her work was satisfying and her co-workers were brilliant people and they shared their knowledge and ideas without a care to the head-shapes of those who shared them. Unfortunately they all also shared in the paper work and cataloguing lab results, one of the more tedious and time consuming chores. It was why she was looking forward to something other then the glare of her computer screen that night.

Then three human males, nearly overwhelming her sensitive nose with the smell of booze and a much more alarming hint of salt water, descended on her and began to talk to her inappropriately. They cut off easy escape routes and one of the men grabbed her arm.

Cathy was about to scream for help and retaliate, when a pale hand grabbed one man by the shoulder.

"Excuse me," a clear tenor drawled, "But I think you should let the lady go now."

The three unkept men whirled, only to laugh when they saw that Cathy's rescuer was in fact a rather short teenager and all three of her assailants looked nearly twice the human's size.

"Run along home to Mommy slag lover, or we'll teach you a lesson you wont soon forget," one of them threatened, and as one the group dismissed the boy and turned back to their fun.

Another tap on the shoulder, and the leader of the group whirled again, raising his fist snarling, "I said get lost you- argh!" the man screamed as pale hands grabbed the descending fist and suddenly the leader of the disreputable group was sprawled on the cement.

Another man let go of Cathy's arm and went to help his friend by rushing the youth, who grabbed the second man by the arm and used his momentum to carry him into a nearby wall, where he fell with a sickening crunch.

The third man pulled out a knife, but a knee to the groan by Cathy had him joining his fellows in the pain club.

Cathy grabbed Ian's hand and said, "come on! Lets get out of here before they recover!"

She dragged the human youth behind her, then let out a sigh of relief when she ran into Matt.

"Matt!" she yelled.

Matt reacted just in time to nail one of the men, who had recovered and given chase, knocking him flat on the ground with left hook, then pulled out his gun, pointing it at the other two who had straggled determinedly behind.

Then, much to her startlement, the young human who had helped her extracted himself and pulled out a pair of shiny handcuffs and a badge.

"Cathy, go call 9-1-1, we got this," Matt directed the goggle-eyed woman who shakily nodded and rushed inside to do just that.

Ooo ooo ooo

"Here," Matt said, handing the kid a beer, who took it with a grateful sigh a few hours later in Matt's apartment. He had been the one to deal with giving his statement and generally making damn sure that the three sleezeballs that Matt was ashamed to admit had once called casual friends, were locked up.

"So, your one of the new rookies," Matt hummed, as he fell into his favorite faded recliner, "I've seen you around a few times Babyface, but I can't remember your name."

"The names Ian Freeley," Freeley paused, as if waiting for something, then added "Ian Paul Freeley."

Matt blinked, then after a minute or two he suddenly cottoned on and laughed.

"That's it, lets yuk it up now and get it behind us," Ian said sagely, taking a tolerant swig.

"Ugh! Gah! That's some awful stuff! What brand is this?" Freeley glared down at the bottle.

"Cheap," Matt replied, once he had gotten control of himself. No wonder this kid was scrappy! A name like that all your life you'd have to be!

"So Cathy told me how you took down those dickheads," Matt commented, leaning back in his favorite chair, with his guest currently sitting in a hastily made spot on the couch next to a pile of semi-clean laundry, blankets, and chip bags.

Freeley shrugged, taking another swig despite his disdain, "I took Akido and Karate in my spare time during my...formative years, I lost interest after i got my black belt equivalent."

Matt eyed the unassuming innocent looking baby faced rookie, and made a mental note to watch out for this one.

"You know, I don't understand you," Ian said finally, after a short contemplative silence between the two.

Matt lowered his bottle, "What do you mean?"

"You say things that you know are offensive to those around you, and you put forward this persona of barely tolerating Tenctonese, yet you helped that little girl, you helped that neighbor of yours, and you even have this amazing repertoire with your partner, as much as you may deny it yet."

Matt glared at the kid. Observant little bugger wasn't he?

"Its complicated," he snapped irritable.

"Ri-igt," Freeley grumbled then pinned him with a look, "just...don't use that bigoted crap around either me or my partner, or you might just develop an intimate understanding of hard surfaces...sir."

Matt was both annoyed and mildly impressed with the insubordination.

"It's none of your damn business how I talk, but I will try to be less of an asshole around your partner if it bothers you two so much."

Ooo ooo ooo

Ian didn't stay much longer, both of them had a rather early shift tomorrow, and both were looking forward to their bed/backseat.

Ian was just passing Cathy Frinkel's apartment door when it opened. The woman met his eyes and said.

"It took me awhile you know, to figure out why you seemed familiar to me."

Ian froze, biting out, "I'm sure your mistaken..."

Cathy shook her head, her eyes way to knowing.

"I remember, on the Day of Descent, when I and others were trapped in the creche on board the space ship, I remember the fire and the smoke that filled the room, the debris that none of us could move. I remember reaching out for help...and then I saw a human. Black hair, green eyes, wearing a bloody uniform. I remember that he saved us and many unborn pods. He was the first human I ever met. The first human that my people came into contact with."

Ian met her eyes steadily, face closed off, not revealing anything.

Ian remembered, how could he not? He remembered almost everything about the Day of Decent, with the exception of those final moments on the ship before he lost consciousness when his magic had tried to save that tenctonese boy...something he was unsure if he was even successful or not.

Cathy's face and voice softened, "I wont tell anyone, if your worried, I just wanted to say thank you. For now and then."

He nodded his gratitude and he left.


	5. Doing Thier Duty

The stupidest thing Ian ever saw to come out of the Purists, a mass organization of humans that were fanatical about their anti-newcomer rhetoric, was this ridiculous story that was spread through the media about Newcomers turning into giant dangerous bug creatures.

Ian was relativity sure that if that were even possible, he would have seen something during his years living in Little Tencton, and his time staying off and on with Henry and Vera, who had been very open to Ian about themselves and their culture. He was sure that Henry at least would have at least alluded to a little something like that, and from what little he had seen of the ship, there hadn't been any sign of giant bug people, just scared shitless ones.

The IQ lowering madness had mainly come about through panicky so-called witness reports, a couple of Newcomer deaths that frankly could have been been answered by one of many other, more believable and rational causes of death. The Newcomer skin found at a crime scene did raise a brow or two, but Ian was more likely to believe that some poor fellow out there had been brutally killed and his skin left behind in some sort of gruesome hate crime message, then that it had been shed. Ian had seen a lot of brutal things during his time in his old world, he knew the depravity that the mind was capable of.

Ian was of the opinion that they should be trying to track down the victim of the skinning, not fly off the handle like citizens were doing.

It had gotten so bad that Fransisco's house had been attacked, and Henry nearly lost an eye when someone threw a brick at his patrol car.

Tensions were just as high in the precinct that Fransisco, the most patient by the book officer to ever wear a badge, nearly threw Sikes out of a window because he had made one to many of his usual bigoted comments, this time fueled in part by the fear mongering in the media.

Ian though was not just going to twiddle his fingers. He had managed to smarm access to the files of the Newcomer Bug case out of Cpt. Grazer, and after reviewing everything and making a few phone calls, he had determined that the precinct's resident ambulance chasing rag reporter Burns, had been the one to break the story first about all the bug nonsense.

Chances are that whoever was behind all this might just seek out this world's Rita Skitter for an exclusive.

Fortunately Ian knew a guy in Little Tencton that he had saved from slag-bashers a few years back who ran an electronics shop that had a few extra goodies for those on his good side who knew how to ask.

ooo ooo ooo

One less then legal break-in later, Ian was comfortably situated in his favorite car wreck with a pair of binoculars, a mountain of Slim Jims, a big bottle of cola, and a head set on his ears.

2 nights of stake out turned into 3, then 4 nights and still no luck.

His fifth night though finally bore fruit when Burns received his next exclusive making phone call.

It wasn't long before Burns was careening out of the apartment and running for his car, a camera swinging on his pudgy neck.

Harry waited until he had gotten some distance away, turned on the GPS siting on his dashboard, and followed.

Ooo ooo ooo

"An abandoned warehouse, how quaint."

Ian muttered under his breath as he held his non-issue clock close to his chest, eyeing the reporter who cursed, stumbling over some garbage can.

Ian shook his head. An Erumpet would make less noise then this idiot.

Ian slipped inside the warehouse, leaving Burns for the moment, slinking from shadow to shadow as his silent foot falls treaded over inch thick dust and cracked cement. It was dark, with only a few blinking streetlights from outside and the moon his only illumination and the only sounds were Burns tripping and cursing in the distance.

Then, suddenly there was another sound, a heavy thunk, thunk. The brush of something large against crumbling walls and rusted mental, and to Ian's surprise, a very large, very bug shaped silhouette was briefly highlighted through a cracked window.

Then the warehouse exploded with a roar, yells of pain, gunshots, then the creature of the house burst out from behind a wall of boxes, heading directly in Ian's direction. In the distance he heard another yell.

"Sonovabitch!"

"Matt!"

Ian sprang from the shadows and bowled into the creature's side, sending the larger figure tumbling backwards as it was unbalanced.

It roared at him and sprayed something. Only his seeker reflexes kept him from getting a face full of acid as he dodged to the side.

The creature tried to get up, but it was a rather awkward go and it seemed to have difficulty moving, much like an over turned turtle. Ian came at it again, lunging on its back this time. The creature bucked like an irate bull trying to get him off.

An pissed off Sikes careened around the corner and only paused long enough to note Officer Freely clinging to his perp's back like a monkey before diving into the fray, going for the legs.

Between Ian and Sikes they rode the thing down and with vicious gusto, ripped open the back of the creature to reveal a very human back under the tearing sound of velcro.

"Let me up dammit!" the man in the bug suit demanded, yelping when Ian accidentally on purpose dug his knee into his arm.

Fransisco squeezed in next to them, pressing his gun into the man's back saying coolly, "move and you die."

Then more voices joined the fray, the man's soon discovered Purist compatriots, with the bonus of the current Purist leader, which was the cheery on top as far as Ian was concerned.

Rights were read and soon the place was swarming with police. Burns was not found, obviously the reporter making a break for it when the shooting started.

Ooo ooo ooo

Ian sat slumped in the chair before Cpt. Grazer.

"I was not pleased to hear that this precinct's brightest police officer was found to be working off the books on a case that was currently being worked on," Grazer said finally when he was sure that he had made the rookie squirm enough.

"I'm sorry sir, its just..."

Grazer held up a hand, and Ian stopped speaking.

"Given the circumstances, I can understand the motivations behind your actions, and the past week has been especially tense on everyone, and I am well aware of your stance on Newcomer Rights, as well as having a Newcomer Partner, and your also still young, so going off half cocked was bound to have happened to even the best of us I suppose, given everything, but I can't condone you going vigilante. It will be noted in your permanent record, but otherwise I will let you off with a warning, do you understand?"

Ian nodded with the proper amount of gratitude and subdued cowedness.

The captain nodded,looking tired but satisfied, "very well then. I will see you here tomorrow...double shift for the next few weeks I think, since you seem to have enough time to follow reporters around."

Ian mentally groaned, but agreed.

When he left the chief's office, Ian slumped into the chair at his desk, Henry looking at him sympathetically as he handed his partner his coffee.

Sikes did corner Ian sometime later to give him his own piece of mind about butting in on his case.

Ian, who felt no need about holding back with Sikes then he did with Grazer, pulled the startled man into an unused closet and told him precisely what he thought of a person who believed, even for a second, who thought of that ridiculous bug story being true. Matt had gone red eared when Ian pointed out that it had also influenced his perspective on the case, so of course Ian was not likely to believe that anyone was doing anything about it. Matt had grumbled but eventually let off since Ian did have a point, and admitted that yes, he was wrong, yes he was ashamed for believing the hype. Ian's response was to tell Sikes to apologize to his poor partner and take him out to dinner, then to him and stomped off.

Ooo ooo ooo

A few days after the grim reality of arresting Officer Pointay for the death of Sike's old partner, Ian and Henry were assigned Pointy's old beat, which circled through some of the seedier, more abandoned areas of Los Angeles. It wasn't ideal, neither the beat not the circumstances behind how they got it, but it was finally something other then desk riding so the two men took to it gladly.

The both of them got to know quite a few homeless regulars during that time.

Henry and Ian developed a habit of taking turns escorting the more sickly ones to a free clinic, or occasionally sharing their lunch with whomever they could, though none of them made enough to feed everyone, they still nonetheless became favorites of the locals.

"It's a shame that there aren't any fruit or vegetable gardens in the area," Henry sighed, as he handed over his raw beaver to a wain faced woman who thanked him before scuttling off, "I think I would like to be able to give something back to this world that took my family and my people in."

Ian handed over his burger without even bothering to open the bag to an old man who also thanked him and left. He patted his friend on the back and said softly, "I know its hard my friend, but as much as you want to help, you can't help everyone, and you shouldn't feel guilty when you can't. All you can do is try your best to help those you can and move on. Trust me, I learned that the hard way."

Henry sighed sadly, but nodded as the two got back into their patrol car to head down to the next intersection.

Ooo ooo ooo

Later that evening, Ian had been dragged over to Henry's for dinner (A really nice vegetable medley for Ian, and some vegetables and Sloth for the family).

Henry excitedly dragged him into the den after diner and shoved a map under his nose while Vera ushered the kids to bed.

"Umm..." Ian said inelegantly, "gee Hen, that's a...nice map?'

Henry rolled his eyes, giving his friend an exasperatedly fond expression as he plucked it from Ian and explained patiently, "its a map of our beat."

The man picked up a green marker swiped from his son's art kit and outlined a rectangular space.

"This is the empty lot on Second street. Its surrounded by the ruins of a factory that burnt down ten years ago. If the cement were torn up and the remains remove, there would be a space for a large enough garden to feed many of the homeless in that area!"

"Your talking about a community garden?" Ian hummed, eyeing the space thoughtfully. It actually wasn't a bad idea. Not even the homeless used that area. To much exposure to the elements.

"That's not a bad idea, but how are you going to pull it off? Neither of us has the money to do something like this," Ian pointed out logically.

"I plan on petitioning city council to fund-raise the money."

Ian raised his eyebrow, "Well that's ambitious," Ian mused as he rubbed his chin in thought, "I don't know much about fundraising, but I do know that anything involving bureaucracy is by its nature exceedingly slow and annoying."

Henry shrugged, grinning as he slapped Ian on the back, nearly sending the winded man over the table, chirping "I am sure that you and I will be victorious against this Bureaucracy my friend, after all, it is only for the benefit of others, how can it be refused?."

ooo ooo ooo

"I hate this," Ian growled, glaring out at the glitter of Chrystal wine glasses and the gleam of polished white marble.

"I agree," Matt Sikes also growled, baring his teeth at the flash of a camera nearby.

Both glum men watched as their partners meanwhile were happily and politely talking with another round of human and Newcomer mucky mucks.

"Hey Freeley, want to sneak off and see how far we can take the free bar?" Matt whispered.

Ian eyed his superior officer. While the two of them didn't necessarily have what you would call a good relationship, since Ian was of the opinion that Sikes was a jackass who seemed to embrace his foot-in-mouth syndrome with abandon.

But...surrounded by the the ritzy political swish of internal politics that Cpt. Grazer had forced Ian, Henry, Matt, and George to attend as his matched set of new and veteran mixed species partners during the annual Mayor's gala to show off show progressive their precinct was, well...lets just say that the human partners were evenly matched when it came to their mutual dislike and discomfort of show ponies for the evening. One of whom was having discomforting Post-war hero worship Ministry gala flashbacks.

So Ian gave a fervent nod and both of them began inching away from the general vicinity of their partners. Unfortunately both George and Henry heard the faint squeak of their shoes moving away, and each Newcomer reached out simultaneously, and discreetly reeled their humans back to their sides.

"Well, theirs always the cocktail weenies," Ian sighed.

"...Swimming in unpronounceable red sauce," Matt finished, also sighing.

"Do you think we'll get lucky and the bank next door will be robbed or something?" Ian whispered hopefully.

"Not likely," Matt whispered back. Both slumped depressingly.

George and Henry, both easily answering questions from a robust woman with a large amount of blond hair who was a prominent member of the education board, exchanged brief looks with each other, simultaneous twitches from the corner of their eyes.

Ooo ooo ooo

"Hah! I got it! I got it!" Ian lifted the broom stick above his head, and did a victory dance on top of Fransisco's desk.

"Come down from there officer! And return Albert's Broom!" Cpt. Grazer demanded ineffectually.

Officer Freeley just flipped off his captain and clung to it possessively, blowing a raspberry while somehow dodging Dobb's attempt to subdue him.

Cpt, Grazer gritted his teeth when Sikes, who was being no help at all was rolling around laughing.

He whirled on a few nervous looking sergeants.

"Can somebody explain to me how it is that I come in this morning, expecting an orderly precinct only to find one of my officers dancing on the furniture?"

"Well, sir, he was helping us with a dealer we were bringing in to detox in the tank, when the man pulled out a syringe from down his pants and stabbed Officer Freeley before we could react," a nearby Sergent offered up.

Her partner nodded nervously, the man's mustache twitching.

"I see another seminar on the proper techniques of thorough pat downs will yet again need to be applied," the captain sighed, turning to watch as Freeley's partner clambered onto the desk yet again, trying to coax the high off his kite man down.

"Its that Git Malfoy!" Ian pouted, pointing at Grazer, "He's trying to steal my Firebolt!" and clung to the broom tighter, like it was buried treasure.

"Now why is that?" Henry asked, using his training to play along as he began inching his way closer.

"He's just trying to keep me from playing! I fly circles around him and he knows it!"

Suddenly Ian sniffled, "I can still play right?"

"Sure you can," Henry soothed with no idea, like anyone else, understanding what Officer Freely was talking about, and wrapping an arm carefully around Ian's shoulder, and making a general guess from context, "though the game wont be for awhile yet so how about a nap first? So you have lots of energy?"

Ian suddenly swayed slightly, but seemed to get out a nod and Henry swept his partner up over a shoulder and took him to one of the recovery rooms.

"My ulcer" Grazer groaned, rubbing his face as he stomped to his office, slamming the door behind him.

George picked up his squashed Donkey spleen forlornly that the human had been treading upon, it being George's desk he had used for his stage, sighing forlornly "My Lunch."

Matt slapped Georgie on the shoulder and offered, "you know what George? how about I buy you dinner? my treat. All the Donkey, sloth or whatever guts you want."

George, knowing Matt's squeamishness about Tenctonese diets, gave him him a startled look but said in delight, "Thank you Matt, I would like that."


	6. Hospital Visits

A/N: Makes references to Alien Nation, ep. 2 "Fountain of Youth."

Ian yawned as he blurrily backed his car into the employee parking lot on yet another sunny day in Los Angeles.

"Whoa! What a sweet looking ride!" An appreciative voice exclaimed.

Ian leaned out the driver's side window to find Sikes making googly eyes at the powder blue vehicle.

Ian stumbled out of his car, idly kicking the roll of toilet paper back inside. Matt raised an eyebrow as he keenly noticed the neatly made back seat bed, the empty packages of crackers, and the small mountain of books stacked on the floor of the car.

Ian mumbled something about coffee and stumbled inside. Matt, bored with nothing to do since George was currently out with Ian's partner and he didn't currently have a case hot and ready, and he was curious about the obvious evidence that a certain brown nosing rookie had a motel room in his back seat, so he trailed after the younger man who glared death at Dobbs when the man had the poor taste to stand in Ian's line of sight instead of the coffee machine.

"Hey there Sikes! Ready to lose today?" Dobbs chortled as he hastily moved out of Freely's direct path.

Sikes snorted, "More like you should be ready, George and I are going to wipe the floor with you and Zepeda."

"Oh please," Dobbs rolled his dark brown eyes, "Zepeda is a sports goddess, and George...is George."

"I'll have you know that George is a great athlete!" Sikes defended.

Dobbs snorted, "Mr. Roboto? Please! Just be prepared to cough up your usual 50$ deposit Sikes! Hey Freely!" Dobbs turned to the youngest officer, "Want to come and watch the massacre?'

Then both men groaned when they saw that Freely, somehow defying logic, had fallen asleep standing up mid-sip.

Sikes poked Freeley, who began to snore into his "I Heart Salty Nuts...the legumes people! Sheesh".

"I don't know whether to be impressed or disturbed," Dobbs said blandly as Matt carefully guided the younger male to the ratty couch, quickly retracting his hand when he attempted to take the coffee and received a growl for his trouble.

Ooo ooo ooo

Ian was being punished with desk duty again.

Alright, maybe not an intentional punishment. Half the precinct was down with the flu, so more experienced officers were being relegated to beat duty, while the less experienced, or those months from retirement veterans, were tasked with manning the fort.

This was how Ian, who was manning dispatch while the regular did a quick rush for the toilet, heard over the wire that Officer James had been shot.

Ian barely managed to wait long enough to shove the ear phones into the surprised dispatcher's hands when he ran out of the precinct, heart in his throat.

Ooo ooo ooo

Matt pouted as George walked away from his joke. Couldn't George not be so sensitive all the time?

'Maybe because that joke might be construed as a wee-bit bigot-ty?' his mental voice, which suspiciously sounded like Rookie Freely for some reason pointed out. Matt told it to shut up and pouted.

He was soon distracted however when He spotted his old childhood friend, Trenner, who was now a world renowned doctor and supporter of Newcomer medicine. The two were just reminiscing about stink bombs in the teachers lounge with George, who was both rather disproving and jealous of the easy repertoire between the two humans, when the doors to the waiting room of the hospital they were currently in slammed open dramatically and a pale faced Ian Freely rushed inside.

Upon spotting his partner sitting in a wheelchair nearby as a patient nurse explained what to expect for surgery, the green-eyed man let out a sigh of relief and rushed over, bowling Matt out of the way in the process, who tossed the younger officer the one fingered salute, grumbling.

"Don't be mad Matt," George tsked, "If it were you I just heard had been shot I would not let any obstacle lie in my path to get to your side."

Matt pushed George's helping hand aside and grumbled grouchily, but rubbed the back of his head, hiding a slight blush of embarrassment at that easily said proclamation.

Ian meanwhile was busy pulling his much larger friend into a hug.

Henry yelped as his shot arm got caught up in the exuberant relief. Freely let go when the attending nurse shot daggers at Ian and shooed him away with the officer's medical file. Ian rubbed the back of his messy hair and apologized, much to the exasperated amusement of his partner and Henry's wife.

"Whoa, didn't know Babyface was a hugger, remind me not to get shot," Matt joked, hastily deflecting the mushy moment George had yet again instilled.

"You needn't worry Matt, Officer Freely is of course not your partner, should you become shot, it will be my duty to be the one to hug you," George declared primly, and perhaps with the barest hint of territoriality.

Matt groaned while Trenner snickered at his old friend's long suffering look.

"So your sure your alright?" Ian asked again, ignoring the peanut gallery byplay in the background, gripping the other man's shoulders.

Henry patted his agitated partner on the hand, "there is no need to worry, right Vera?"

His wife nodded, "it's just a simple surgery the doctor said," she soothed, patting Ian's other hand.

Ian relaxed in relief, "you have no idea the things that went through my mind when I overheard that you had gotten shot on the dispatch."

"Ian!" Henry squawked, "Did you just run out on work!?"

"There's nothing much going on down there anyway, and give me some credit, I did at least wait until the dispatcher returned before coming."

Henry huffed, annoyed, but didn't pull away when Ian wrapped himself around his partner again while Dr. Trenner outlined the basic surgery to repair Henry's arm. Both Vera and Harry wanted to stay, but Henry just rolled his eyes in fond exasperation and shooed them home.

ooo ooo ooo

 _The Next Day..._

Harry slapped the alarm resting against the back window, and sat up abruptly when memory returned that Henry was supposed to go into surgery today.

He cursed when he realized that he had forgot to set the time on his alarm Clark for earlier so he could be at the hospital with Vera and the kids. The whole thing had likely already started by now! Harry cursed again when in his haste to get up and dressed he clocked his head against the roof of the car, again. He really hoped that the building manager for that apartment got back to him, this was getting old.

He nearly broke the speed limit driving to the hospital.

When he arrived though, dressed partly in his uniform and partly in his pajama bottoms, a live rabbit he had bought from a near by pet store as a get well present (Tenctonese considered it extremely unlucky to give others cut flowers as a get well present, preferring living beings instead) he found a nearly empty waiting room, and in the chair was Henry's kids. They looked scared and confused.

Harry made his way over to them and sat beside the eldest, Mallory.

"Hey Val, where's your mom? is your dad still in surgery?"

Mallory bit her lip, the 13 year old sniffed, "I don't know uncle Ian, Mom was called out by the doctor just before you got here."

Ian frowned in concern, "Well how about I check for you okay?"

Val nodded in agreement.

Ian stuck his head through the connecting swinging doors that lead to the hospital treatment area and it wasn't long before he spotted Vera.

Vera...Vera's shoulders were shaking, her head shaking back and forward in disbelief, and as Ian approached, he saw that Trenner bloke that was friends with Sikes rest a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Its not possible!" Vera suddenly yelled, and with blazing eyes she grabbed the sandy haired man and smashed him up against a wall, "You said it was just a simple surgery! Simple! How can he..."

Vera shuttered when she felt firm gentle hands on her shoulders.

She turned with a snarl, only to find Ian looking at her with wide fearful eyes.

"Vera?" Ian whispered, "What's...whats going on?"

Vera, the strongest person that Ian knew, head of the James family, weathering them through not only the slavery on the ship but the harshness of quarantine, and eventually the ghettos of Little Tencton without even a whimper, who had welcomed Ian into her family as readily as Henry had without blinking, had just...just crumpled before Ian's eyes.

A Newcomer nurse who was standing nearby and was helping a ruffled Trenner to his feet, uncomfortably told him, since Vera was currently in no state to.

"Mr. James...there was a complication during his surgery, I'm afraid...I'm sorry," the nurse looked away, "He...he didn't make it."


	7. Grief

A/N: Makes references to Alien Nation, ep. 2 "Fountain of Youth."

As soon as the news registered, it was like the world suddenly disconnected from his brain and everything became static.

Henry was...Henry was...

Dead.

Ian abruptly turned without a word, ignoring the concerned calls, and left the hospital as quickly as possible. He felt disconnected, his mind frozen in that one glaring crystallized moment, unable to think, a white static that filled his ears. His body, acting almost on some sort of preset autopilot, was carrying him, he didn't know where. Some distant part of his rationality still holding onto the here and now knew that he had to get away, get far, far away before...

Some distant part of him knew that he was running, feeling the flex and bunch of burning muscles, the slick of sweat, the rapid beating of his heart, the burn of his lungs. Distant sounds of honking cars and curses in his ear, informed him occasionally that he had run out into traffic a time or two.

Then the backdrop of urbanization began to fall away and things became gradually darker and quieter.

Then he blinked and found himself suddenly surrounded by barren desert.

Ian's legs gave out from the strain of it all, and he collapsed into the dry grit of the Mohabi desert, the place where he had been reborn into this new world, naked and terrified, where Henry, his wife and children, George and his family, Albert and so many other Tenctonese had been reborn. All of them Newcomers in different ways. Tears burned his eyes, salted his lips and made a semi-abstract in water colour of his surroundings.

It was here, the only place he could go, that Ian retreated and Harry let loose his grief.

He was always so controlled of his more violent emotions, he's had to be, or risk not only his secret, but the lives of those around him would he ever let go. This time though, he could not control his emotions.

Harry's rage was the first, a disbelieving impotant shriek that wail at the injustice of it all,that his closest friend had been taken from him, taken like so many others by time and circumstance before him. He wanted to tare something apart, he wanted to drown the world in his rage and grief over the senseless, useless, loss.

Harry's world was filled with punishing, raging hot winds, molten fire that danced with creatures never conceived of in this world, raking the screaming winds and roiling ground.

It hurt, it burned and froze and shook and broke right along with Harry as he let go for the first time in a very long time, and grieved.

Seismologists would later note in newspapers, or a side-note made by a weatherman, of the small Earthquake that had spread out from the desert and into LA. The residents were used to worse, it was California after all, adn it wasn't the devestating shakers that had toppled whole swathes of buildings over the years, no, it was the strange weather came out of nowhere at the exact same time that had caught the media. A raging sandstorm that had covered the desert for miles in every direction and blanketing over L.A. The raging wall of sand lasted for several hours, and filled the city's nooks and crannies with sand, even burying a few cars and buildings. No one would be able to explain the out of nowhere record breaking sandstorm and would puzzle quite a few meteorologists.

A month later, a lucky group of Newcomer Naturalists on a pilgrimage to the crash site, would stumble across a 50 ft deep man-sized hole, whose inner surface was mysteriously layered in thick rippling glass, and debate among themselves the possible spiritual and scientific significance of the find.

ooo ooo ooo

Ian returned to work only a few days after the news of Henry's death was broken to the rest of the precinct.

He received sympathetic nods, the occasional pat on the shoulder, or awkward invites to get hammered at some local bar.

Ian didn't say anything, and he gave off such an air of unapproachable that, despite being a skinny youthful looking squirt of a rookie, some instinctual, primitive part of the brain of his coworkers sent up a 'run-for-the-hills-dangerioues-as-fuck' vibe.

His work was going through the motions, riding desk duty until he was assigned a new partner after the department mandated grieving period was declared over...well, and his general dangerous air that the Captain smartly read as a PR nightmare itching to happen. When he wasn't working, he was with Vera and the kids, the only place he allowed himself to soften, as he helped her deal with the funeral arrangements, and provide emotional support.

He also had abandoned finding his own place, and gave up living in a car, moving in at Vera's insistence during this trying time in their lives because now, with Henry dead, and in an economy that wasn't exactly friendly towards a low paid waiter and a desk bound rookie, particularly when looking after three school aged children. Vera's brother Stanley and his human partner Josh who lived in the same building, took turns helping out with babysitting, but both of them didn't have much in the way of well paying jobs either, and Stanley had a pod on the way as it was.

Ian started taking more shifts when he wasn't helping out with the kids, and gave his pay checks to Vera to help with the kids and paying rent and other necessities, and had only taken a break outside of these duties to attend the funeral. He had let the children cling to him as he held the youngest in his arms throughout the ceremony, and when a distraught Vera had echoed her disrepair and confusion over losing her husband to a supportive George Fransisco.

"It was just supposed to be a simple procedure, how...how could this have happened? How?"

"I don't know," George said quietly and hugged Vera. Harry didn't notice the determined look that entered George's eyes, to preoccupied with the children and his own grief.

ooo ooo ooo

 _2 Days later..._

George frowned thoughtfully at his raw peacock sandwich.

Matt, noticing his partner's frown, lowered his coffee and asked "Hey George, what's the matter? You finally buck up your nerve to buy that fancy sandwich and your hardly eating it. Is there a feathers in the mustard or something?"

"No, its not my lunch," George sighs, pushing the raw poultry aside, he gestured with a nod towards a desk that was groaning under neat towers of paperwork, a desk sitting across from a conspicuously unoccupied one, baring a lone police hat, A desk which no one had the nerve to clean out in the presence of Officer Freely, who was currently face down in a pile of telephone scam reports and take-in reports, snoring lightly.

"Jesus, the rookie looks horrible," Matt sighed, noting the dark circles under Ian's eyes, skin grayish tinge, and his hair was a greasy ball that was even messier then usual some how. Their erstwhile chief had attempted to comment on Ian's less then sharp appearance one day when he called Ian into his office...something that was not repeated.

"He's been taking on extra shifts, offering to do the paperwork or other odd jobs that other officers procrastinate on for extra cash. The only time that he leaves work is when he is helping with looking after his partner's children when there is no one to babysit, or when Vera comes and drags Harry home to sleep," George sighed.

Matt didn't say anything, just muttered something about him being late to meet his doctor friend. George noticed absently that Matt still limped from spraining his groin muscle during their basketball game yesterday. George wasn't unduly surprised by Matt's reaction to their colleges obvious alarming spiraling. Matt was not the sort to discuss emotions, and the memories of his own partner, murdered in the line of duty, would be fresh in his mind.

George tore his gaze away from the exhausted Officer, his eyes straying to the medical file he had managed to have smuggled out of the Tencton Hospital. Vera had asked George why it had happened, a simple procedure they had said. Henry had taken a bullet for him, and Vera's depressed confusion, the grieving eyes of the three children clinging onto officer Freely's person, said man who was working himself to the bone to escape his emotions and support the only people that he had left. There was something not right all around about the story around his death, and he was going to get to the bottom of it, to be absolutely sure that there really was nothing more to this then a senseless tragedy.


	8. PB&J

A/N: A short chap in concluding the death of Henry arc, but I wasn't keen on re-hashing a blow-by-blow of the episode. If your interested in the details of Matt and George's investigation, then watch the ep.

Chapter 8: PB&J.

Ian was sitting dazedly at his desk, staring down listlessly at yet another uneaten sandwich that Albert had brought him in the hopes that the officer would at least try to eat something.

It was a simple gesture, and while he wasn't close with Albert, the quarky Tenctonese Janitor, some distant part of his brain appreciated it, even if it was only a PB&J that he barely touched. His fellow officers had kept their distance. Either through respect or discomfort around those who lose a partner, or those who had been around for a time and had a certain developed ingrained gut instinct that Harry was a tickling time bomb that they did not want to risk triggering and seeing just how much damage resulted.

Ian poked the bread, humming with vague approval that Albert knew to layer a bit of peanut butter on each side of the bread before adding the jam, thereby forestalling any decent sandwich pet peeve, soggy bread. His breath hitched as he remembered lecturing an amused Henry about perfect sandwich techniques a few years back, the two of them laughing at Henry's rather poor cooking skills as they bemoaned their soggy, sticky lunches.

Henry thought Harry was being picky, and Harry exclaimed rather primly that he should learn from his elders, a mysterious smile curling his lips when his friend gave him one of those exasperated eye-rolls over his "mysteriousness" that he was well used to by that point.

Ian picked up the sandwich on his desk and took a bite, a sad little smile around the bite.

ooo ooo ooo

The day that Ian learned that Henry's fate had not been a tragic accident, it had been while he was walking down a hallway and by pure happenstance, witnessed the bevy of suspects being brought in in handcuffs, and upon asking Dobbs about all the activity, the detective had uncomfortably related the investigation that George and Matt had conducted on the sly about Henry's death, there suspicions, Matt getting dragged in by his old school chum, the surgeries, all a case of tragic, exploitative murder.

Dobbs would swear later, in private with the investigators from internal affairs who had been brought in after the following incident, that Officer Ian Freely had not moved from his side when the skies darkened at high noon over Los Angeles, and several highly affluent people waiting in custody for their expensive lawyers to work there well paid wiles and get them free, disappeared.

No one knew what precisely happened. One minute, several people that had been part of or benefited from stealing parts from Tenctonese victims for eternal youth and vitality simply vanished in the 30 seconds that the entire police station went pitch black, and were gone when the lights returned.

Ian had been standing beside Dobbs when the lights came on alright, but what Dobbs decided to leave out of his report, unsure himself if it had been a figment of his imagination induced by the strangeness of the situation, was that officer Freely had smiled. Not a happy smile, or a funny ha ha smile, but more something unhealthy and sinister, something that gleamed, for just a moment, inhuman, in the shadows of the flickering florescent lights before they solidified, revealing a blank expression in the harshness of the light, calmly eating a PB&J sandwich, the gleam of red jam dripping onto the floor from between the dry crusts.


End file.
